


Flicker of faith

by Ischa



Series: Definition of destiny-Series [3]
Category: Heroes - Fandom, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Multi, Threesome, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:06:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylar and Damon have a kinky thing going on and Peter is tired of all the tension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flicker of faith

**Title:** Flicker of faith  
 **Pairing:** Sylar/Peter /Damon  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Summary:** Sylar and Damon have a kinky thing going on and Peter is tired of all the tension.  
 **Warning(s):** angst, spoilers up to Brave new world, vampires, blood-play and it's a VD crossover  
 **Author’s Notes:**  Interlude to Sudden movements. Set right after. It's kind of a companion piece to For I am death. Quotes from 'World so cold' by 12 Stones.  
 **Word Count:** 2.016  
 **Beta:** averzierlia (who unselfishly offered her help)  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\--+--  
~1: A stain covers your heart~

~+~  
Peter knows that there is something going on with Damon. He isn't stupid or naïve. In spite what Sylar thinks. Or says. He's lived to see the worse. He's lived to see the future. A future that didn't come true now, but can any minute. Everything is in motion, always. He knows it. He thinks Sylar knows as well. The thing about Sylar is that he is not. He is not in motion. Whatever happens Sylar will always be there. He can never die.  
Back to Damon. Damon is currently lying on the couch and drinking coffee from his favourite mug that actually belongs to Sylar. Peter isn't sure, but hey he never can be sure, but he thinks it's only Damon's favourite mug because it belongs to Sylar. They are dancing around each other. He isn't sure they know it. He can see it. He knows. They are dancing around each other, because they recognize something of themselves in the other.  
He nearly looks away as Damon catches his eye and arches an eyebrow, instead he just looks at Damon and Damon goes back to drinking his coffee. A smile hidden behind the mug.  
Sylar is still not home. Peter doesn't know where he is. He hopes for the best. He knows he doesn't have to worry. Sylar can take care of himself. He should be more concerned with the people that want to hurt him, kill him, steal his ability or something stupid like that.

“He's late,” Damon says with a glance at the clock on the sideboard.

“Yeah,” Peter answers.

“Are you worried?”

“Are you?”

“He can take care of himself,” Damon answers, but he's putting the mug on the table and makes to get up.

“He can,” comes Sylar's voice from the door. Peter looks up and Damon smiles.

“I heard you,” he says.  
Sylar smiles. It makes Peter shiver. Watching them is like watching sharks. Or wolves. Dangerous things, he thinks and Sylar looks at him.

“You're late,” he says.

“Ten minutes, but I have brought dinner,” Sylar answers, putting the bag aside and taking off his shoes. And then his socks as well. Sylar likes to feel the ground under his feet whenever he can.

“I'm starving,” Damon says. Something dangerous passes between them. Something Peter can't put his finger on.

~+~  
Damon is sleeping on the couch again. They just don't make him go home. Peter is pretty sure Damon hates to be alone. He misses his brother, even if he doesn't speak about him. Not often and only if they ask, or more correct: when Peter asks.  
Sometimes when Sylar says something to the subject Damon smiles and then sneers at Sylar and they don't talk to each other for days.  
Peter hates those days and is thinking about just throwing them out. They are grown men, they should be able to find a flat to live in.  
He never does.

~+~  
“So, what is it that you see in him?” Peter asks and Sylar looks at him. Grips the book he was reading just a few seconds ago harder.

“What are you talking about?”

“Sylar,” Peter says.

“I have no idea what you're talking about and I can't read minds...wait. I can.” He closes his eyes and Peter feels Sylar's mind touching his. It used to be unpleasant. It somehow isn't anymore.

“Don't do that!” he says sharply nevertheless and Sylar grins in his head, but backs off.

“Ask your questions correctly and I won't,” Sylar answers, shrugging.  
Peter sighs.  
He knows Sylar's moods and he is sure Sylar will tell him shit. So he gets up to make some coffee.

 

~2:Losing control of our feelings~

~+~  
The tension is so thick Peter could cut it with a knife.

“What the hell is going on here?” he asks.  


Sylar spares him a glance and then shifts his attention to Damon again. “Nothing,” he says.

“Right. And why are you two at each other's throats again when it's nothing?”

“We aren't,” Damon answers with a smile. It even looks real, Peter thinks. He can hear Sylar grind his teeth.

“I need some coffee,” Sylar says leaving the living room and then the apartment.

“Apparently he craves Starbucks...” Damon says into the silence.

“One of these days I'm gonna throw you out. The both of you,” Peter warns.

“You won't. You know it, I know it, he knows it.”

~+~  
There are bruises on Damon's wrist. Finger-shaped.

“Sylar?” Peter asks as he sits down beside him. Damon's gaze flickers to the bruises around his wrist. He nods. “Is this shit going to stop any time soon?”

“Don't think so...” Damon answers with a smile. It's like he is enjoying it, Peter thinks.

“Is this some kind of foreplay for you guys?” he wants to know. He is curious also kind of...not jealous. But something. Damon laughs.

“I have no idea. We are testing...boundaries.” He strokes a finger over the bruises. Peter is watching him, can't look away. Damon laughs again, softly and Peter makes himself look away.

“Maybe you should find another way.”

“It's the only way, Peter.”

“It's not.”

“For us it is,” Damon says, he sounds serious for once. He leans his head against the couch and closes his eyes, his fingers gripping his wrist hard.

~+~  
“Is that a hicky?” Peter asks and Sylar's hand covers his neck automatically.

“A bite-mark,” he answers.

“Something bit you?” Peter wants to know. His finger itch to touch the mark, he balls his hands to fists to keep himself in check.

“Someone,” Sylar answers. He doesn't look away from Peter and Peter knows that he wants to say something without really saying it. His stomach does funny things. He closes his eyes and leans his head on the couch. He takes a deep breath and then another. “Peter?”

“I know,” he answers. He does know.

“You don't,” Sylar says and Peter opens his eyes to look at him. He gazes out of the window. His eyes fixed on something far away, or on the inside where Peter can't see it.

“I do.”

“No, Peter. You really don't...”

 

~3:I don't believe this world can't be saved~

~+~  
“You are going to fucking tell me what is going on!” Peter demands. Sylar is covered in blood and Damon is whipping it away from his face. Damon smiles. It looks like it hurts. Sylar sits up, leaning against the wall. Breathing heavy. He doesn't say a word, just looks at Damon. Damon shifts his gaze away from the blood and stares out of the window. The dark glass reflects them perfectly down to the red blood, drying already on Sylar's clothes and Damon's skin. Peter follows his gaze. Sylar is staring at them as well.  
The silence in the room is unnerving.

“What do you see?” Peter whispers and Damon laughs.

“Two wolves and a lamb,” they say in unison. Peter closes his eyes for a few seconds and just breathes.

“What the hell are you?” he asks.

“Well...a killer, a monster,” Damon starts, but Sylar interrupts him.

“Vampire,” he says. Damon looks disapproving at him. Sylar smiles getting up from the floor.

“Vampire?” Peter asks.

“Yes. Not like the thing you, we, hunted a while ago. No, I'm something else. Not even human.” Damon leans against the cold window glass and looks at them through it.

“You are drinking blood for survival?”

“If you want to put it like that...” Sylar says.  
Damon gives him a sharp look and an even sharper smile.  
And Peter understands. They are the same. He is the anomaly here.

“Scared?” Damon asks. Peter can feel Sylar at his back. Hovering.

“No,” he answers. Damon laughs.

“You should,” Sylar whispers and Peter shivers.

~+~  
He grabs Sylar's hand and shifts through his abilities like he would trough a catalogue. He finds what he's searching for and lets go.

“Clever,” Sylar says.

“I'm not stupid, you know that,” he answers.  


Damon closes his eyes. “The blood makes me hungry,” he throws in.

“Is he...” Peter trails off, not knowing how to ask the question.

“Feeding from me?” Sylar asks. Peter nods.

“No,” Damon says. “Well...not since the time I killed him.”  
Things start to fall in place for Peter. And they aren't making a pretty picture, not at all. But he thinks it's too late now to let it go and walk away.  
He never could just walk away. Just do the sane thing, no he always had a thing for saving people.

“You could,” he says and Damon turns around to look at him directly. Sylar shifts even closer. The gesture an unspoken warning.

“Drink from you?”

“Yeah...”

“You know, it's cute, but it actually hurts to die like this. Ask him.” Damon smiles as he looks at Sylar.

“I know how dying feels like,” Peter answers. Damon raises an eyebrow in challenge. “There are things you don't know about us,” he adds.

“I killed him,” Sylar says.

“It didn't take,” Peter smiles. He can feel Sylar's body heat at his back and leans into it.

“It would this time around, Peter,” Damon warns.

“No, it wouldn't, not now. I can't die right now. I'm just like you.”

“You will never be like us,” Sylar says and Peter knows he doesn't mean it in a bad way. He nods an acknowledgement.

“Maybe, but I'm not a lamb either,” he answers stretching his hand out. He feels Sylar's finger curl around his other wrist: it makes him smile.

~+~  
Damon looks from his face to the offered hand. Peter just waits. After all it took him five years to make Sylar trust him and him to trust Sylar. To forgive him. This is Damon. He lived with Damon for months now without knowing what he was. But now that he knows, it doesn't matter. It doesn't make any difference.

“It should,” Damon says.

“It doesn't. Not to me.”

“I know,” Damon answers. He takes a few steps forward taking Peter's hand. “I want to taste you,” he says.

“Heard that one before,” Peter jokes and Sylar laughs.

“Yeah, I'm sure. Girls love to be on their knees for you, don't they?” He teases. Peter nods. It's the truth. He can feel his pulse speed up, his blood rushing through his veins. “You know that I won't?”

“Yeah...”  
Damon licks his lips, the grip around his fingers gets tighter. He should feel trapped between these two dangerous men, but he doesn't.  
The pain is beyond anything he imagined, but not beyond anything he ever experienced. It was worse to lose his brother. He falls against Sylar. Sylar's hands holding him up, grounding him. He is losing his consciousness and is grateful for it.

When he comes back to his senses Damon is lying on the floor reading a book and Sylar is making coffee in their kitchen. He tries to sit up, but falls back into the cushions. He feels weak and still tired.

“Dying is no fun at all...” he says.

“Tell me about it,” Sylar says from the kitchen.

“You know, I don't have to kill...I can just drink,” Damon throws in.

“But the killing is the satisfying part, right?”

Damon shrugs. “There is always sex. It's a great alternative to the killing.”

“Right. We should try it the next time then,” he says, he means it to be sarcasm but it somehow comes out wrong. Damon turns to look at him.

“We will,” he answers with a smile.

~end~


End file.
